


Happily ever after...?

by donutloverxo



Series: Temptations [2]
Category: Knives Out (2019)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Ransom is his usual asshole self., Rough Oral Sex, Smut, leaking sex tapes, like one mention of drug use, lots of misogyny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donutloverxo/pseuds/donutloverxo
Summary: You're a fool if you think you can just up and leave Ransom.
Relationships: Ransom Drysdale/Reader
Series: Temptations [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2003461
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	Happily ever after...?

**Author's Note:**

> this is a finale to new years eve and temptations. If you liked the previous ending, then there’s no need to read this! This is like an alternate ending of sorts. Idk if it makes any sense.

Being with Ransom was... confusing if anything. He may seem like your typical entitled, spoiled trust fund brat. And for the longest time you thought that’s all that he was, an asshole who knew his way around a woman’s body, but there was so much more to him.

He was funny, even though he didn’t try to be. He was smart, he had so much potential - its a shame he would never want to put that to use. More than anything else he was lonely and sad, he’d never admit it but you could clearly see it. Maybe because that was something you could relate to...

* * *

You were in a relationship with a man you did not love and cheating on him with his friend, whom you seem to have grown quite find of. But you stopped yourself when you thought of Ransom that way, as anything more than a distraction because it will only hurt you in the end.

“I’m sorry, Ransom,” you whispered, sneaking into the bathroom - so your boyfriend won’t hear you apologising to your lover.

_What has my life become? How did I let it get this far?_

“No,” he said flatly. Ransom, of all people, was extremely needy. The most clingy person you have ever met. “I don’t want your fucking apologises. Just be here like you said you would.”

“I know, babe,” you pinched your nose. Even though it was supposed to be a no strings attached arrangement - feelings had gotten involved on both sides. You hated letting him down.

“I have to go with Bryce. It’s a family Christmas dinner,” you pleaded. “I’ll make it up to you when I get back. I promise. I - I’ll let you put it in my ass!” you cringed at just how desperate you were being. Ransom wanted nothing more than to fuck your ass. And while it did sound nice in theory, you doubted you’d actually like it.

“Whatever,” he grumbles on the other line “I can easily find a better lay than you. You’re not special, _sweetheart_ ,” he cooed the term of endearment with such malice - it made you tremble.

“Ransom, don’t - ” before you could say anything else he hung up on you.

The thought of him with someone else made the green monster inside You roar in fury. You wanted to be the only one in his life, even if he wasn’t the same for you. You knew you were a hypocrite but you can’t control how you feel.

***

Ransom threw his phone on the dirty floor of the bar, shattering it in pieces. Having had everything handed to him his whole life - it hurt knowing you wouldn’t ever drop everything for him, be there at a moments notice when he needs you.

 _He_ should always come first because dammit he’d do the same for you. Anything you asked for he'd give it to you in a heart beat. It was as if you had wielded some sort of spell on him and made him your puppet.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks. He missed you - even the things he hated about you.

Like your stupid feminist sjw rants or your nagging always insisting that he do the 'right thing.’

But then there were times when you listened to him - when he wasn’t rambling about shit that didn’t matter really like he often does - but when he was bearing his soul to you.

_“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” you whisperer in his ear before lightly biting down on it._

_He didn’t know how he ended up here. With his arms wrapped around your soft, supple body, nose buried in your hair and your head resting on his heart._

_Ransom Drysdale doesn’t cuddle. He certainly does not do tender aftercare or pillow talk._

_But he had wiped you with a warm washcloth between your legs. Looking at your eyes - staring deep into your soul - your tender flesh swollen and sensitive, as you cutely gasped and squirmed, flustered under his heated gaze. How did that feel more intimate than sex?_

_“I can’t think of anything,” he mumbled, reaching for his ciggarettes. Truthfully, he could think of a million things no one knew about him, but he never let himself ponder too much on them let alone share them with someone else._

_“Ransom, stop. Those things will kill you,” you snatched the packet away from him, glaring at him, your nose scrunched up as you point at the picture on the box “see they even put these disgusting pictures as warnings.”_

_“We’re all already dying,” he grunts, resting his back on his headboard “can’t even smoke in peace,” he grumbled running a hand through his hair. “Why do you care what happens to me anyway?”_

_“Of course I care! I - why would you think I didn’t?”_

_“Yeah? What am I to you anyway? Your mistress?” he scoffed. More at himself than you. He was acting like a woman. Needing commitment and feelings and all of that soft shit._

_“You’re - I - ” you stuttered._

_“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He tried to take the packet back from you but you threw them across the room. “What the fuck is your problem!” he yelled. His rage taking over him as he pinned you down under him._

_His face flushed, that little vein on his forehead popping up. He didn’t really care about the damn cigarettes. He never really smoked anyway. It was, however, nice to piss you off sometimes. Just to get you to chastise him - scold him and lecture him - to show him that you cared. But when you refused to give him any sort of label, when you’ve been HIS EVERYTHING for months, it pissed him off, made him see red._

_“Ransom. I don’t know what I would call you or us,” he tightening his grip on your wrists, pinned above your head, to stop your squirming “but I know that I care about you and love you too much to let you abuse your body like that.”_

_“Abuse my body?” he smirked, sneaking one hand down your body, to your core, grazing them over your folds and swirling your juices._

_“What about you? You let another man fuck you - ” he pushed his fingers in your cunt, “use your holes. You’re nothing but a cock hungry whore.” he curled his fingers inside you as you arched your back up, mewling loudly. “So come down from your high horse. Say it, and maybe I’ll let you come.” he added another finger._

_“Say what?” you whimpered, sobbing under him._

_He couldn’t help but feel some sort of sick pleasure in that. Being able to hit you and hurt you just like you did to him. He had always been a huge fan of revenge._

_“Admit it. Admit that you’re a cock hungry whore,” he released your pinned wrists, squeezing your jaw with his free hand._

_“Ransom, stop, you’re being mean.”_

_He would’ve felt bad about your glossy eyes and the defeated look on your face, if his cock wasn’t rock hard. Aching to be inside you._

_He let go of your face, curling it under your neck and squeezing, just enough to let you know who’s in charge. He pulled you up, bringing you up to sit on your ass as he knelt before you._

_Smearing the precum from his cock on your face as you made a look of disgust, he chuckled darkly “What? Don’t pretend to be a prude now. We both know what an eager little cock sucker you are.” He took his phone off of the night stand, opening the camera and pointing it at you to record you, pushing your head down on his cock._

_“What - what’re you doing?” your lips quivered in fear._

_“I’m going to record you. So I have something to jerk off to while you’re off fucking your BOYFRIEND and his four inch dick. Now, say the magic words.”_

_“I – I’m a cock hungry whore,” you whispered under your breath. More embarrassed than you’d ever been before. Not just because of the camera, but the slick running down your thighs and how you were getting off on being humiliated._

_“Louder,” he commended._

_“I’m a cock hungry whore,” you sobbed as more tears streamed down your cheeks._

_“Look at the camera and say it,” he propped your chin up in its direction._

_You hiccupped before swallowing some of your saliva and repeated the words._

_He finally pushed his cock down, in the wet cavern of your mouth, throwing his head back and groaning, no matter how many times he fucked either of your holes, it’d always be amazing, his tip hit the back of your throat as you choked on him. He loved that the most._

_So he pulled back and forced himself down your throat again, revelling in the gags, chokes and noises you made around his shaft. And how you looked absolutely fucked out on his phone screen._

_He knew he was close when he felt his balls tighten, he always came down your throat and made you swallow it. It took some practice for you but with some discipline you knew better than to ever spit it out or refuse him now._

_However, he had other plans tonight. So he pulled out of you, as you leant back, gasping for some much needed oxygen, your palms flat on the mattress, coughing and sputtering._

_He instructed you to look back at the camera, you instantly shot your head up - always so plaint._

_“Don’t stain my fucking sheets,” he groaned as he pushed his cock into his fist and you wiped the drool that was dribbling down your chin off with the back of your head._

_“Open your mouth,” with a few more strokes, spurts of his seed painted your face, your titts, some of it in your mouth._

_He let out a string of curses as he laid back down on his side, playing the video again. “Give me my cigarettes,” he told you. Not really expecting any mouthing off, not after the lesson he gave you._

_He was too entranced in the depraved film he’d made when you threw the carton at his face. “Go die if you want. I don’t give a shit,” you sniffled settling on your side of the bed, facing away from him._

_He shut his phone off, about to light one up but then rolled his eyes as he heard you sob into the pillow. “What do you want from me? Huh?” he shook his head. “I’m not some deep mystery or a fucking project for you to fix. What you see is what you get.”_

_“There’s more to it then that,” you let out a shuddering breath, your body still taken aback by everything, “there’s good and bad in all of us, you’re just more upfront with your bad side.”_

He could’ve argued, gave you a lecture, disagreed with you, anything really. But he didn’t. He spooned you from behind, muttered apologises to you, made you come twice with his fingers and then his mouth, got you a designer bag the next day just to make sure that he hadn’t scared you off.

All because he wanted to believe you.

That maybe... just maybe, he wasn’t a total piece of shit as he has always been made it out to be.

Even if he was balls deep in a woman he didn’t know just to get back at you for standing him up.

“Fuck me harder, daddy,” she screamed, her high pitched moans piercing his ears, making his face twist as he cringed.

Sure she was nice, had a great - albeit fake - rack on her, had worked him up well with her mouth, taking him like a good slut from behind. But she wasn’t you.

“Shut the fuck up, will you?” he groaned, quickening his pace so he can finish and just be done with it.

He knew it was a bad idea as soon as he thought of it, fishing for his phone and taking a short video of his cock plunging into her cunt and sending it to you. With the caption ‘She has a tighter cunt than you.’

“Oo, you’re kinky,” she giggled, looking at him over her shoulder, “Will you send it to me too?”

“No,” he gritted, pulling out of her, his cock still hard as he took the condom off of it, he only ever went bareback with you, putting his clothes on as quickly as he could.

“What? What did I do?” she whined, chasing after him and begging him to stay.

He knew he shouldn’t have felt guilty, you fuck another guy without think twice about it, hell you were in a relationship with him. You would never belong to him.

People don’t truly belong to each other. That was just a fairy tale, fabricated to sell more movies.

And yet, his plan had worked. You were in his driveway waiting for him, your eyes misty and swollen, shivering from being out so long in the snow.

“How could you, Ransom.” You feebly pushed at his chest.

He stumbled aback a bit, before staring you down, “I told you, you’re not special. I could replace you like that,” he snapped his fingers, to show you just how easy it’d be for him.

“You’re never gonna change, if you could... then maybe... maybe...” _Maybe we could be together_.

“People don’t change, sweetheart. Now, are you gonna come inside?” he asked, cockily assuming that you would.

But you only shook your head, bidding him goodbye and leaving him alone to spend a lonely Christmas.

***

“ _I mean we’re not doing this again. I found an engagement ring in his sock drawer. I’m sorry Ransom._ ”

When Ransom first met you, he was fooled by your pretty pink dresses, your innocent doe eyes, your cute little pout, your fluttering eyelashes. He thought you were some naive softie.

But no.

You were as cold hearted as they came. It was so easy for you to break things off. Thinking that you wouldn’t suffer any consequences. That you’d use him and throw him away when he’d serve his purpose.

You were about to receive a rude awakening.

The after party had dwindled down. Just him and a few of his friends, including your drunk idiot boyfriend. You had left long ago, when he shoved his tongue down some redheads throat just to piss you off.

He knew what he had to do. He was hoping it wouldn’t come to this. He was many things but not a snitch.

Looking at the huge flat screen in his friends lavish house - yeah that would do but he hadn’t come to hate you _that_ much, to publicly shame you like that. Not yet anyway.

He looked at Bryce and scoffed. He was flirting with some floosy. He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. You were leaving him for someone who was unabashedly being a sleaze.

“Hey there, Bryce,” he slapped a hand over his shoulder.

Bryce gave him a huge grin, “’sup? Katya here wanted to go skinny dipping.” He gestured to the woman next to him as she giggled and slapped his bicep.

“Come on! It’ll be fun. What better way to welcome the new year?” she egged him on, giving Ransom a salacious smile, “you can come join us if you like.”

“Nah, I’ll pass this time, can I borrow my friend for a moment?”

Not that he would mind doing it in front of her, he was much to impatient to argue with her anyway. But she left.

“How are things with your girlfriend?” he asked as soon as they were alone.

“Eh, so and so. You know how it is with relationships...” he threw his head back against the couch, “she’s alright. But she can’t give me _everything_. That’s the price you pay for dating a good girl I guess,” he shrugs.

Ransom smirked at the idea of you being a whore just for him. You had said that he just brought that side out in you. “You can’t find a single girl who knows how to give good head these days.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say she’s bad...” his words slurred as he closed his eyes.

Ransom rolled his eyes, his patience running thin, he pulled out his phone. Going through the gallery of your videos together. He liked to have little momentos. Who knew they’d be helpful in such a situation.

“You’d want to see this,” he smirked as he found a video of him giving you a facial.

“What is it?” he hummed, looking at the screen, his face blanched as he snatched the phone from him. Going through his filthy library, finding numerous photos of you in compromising positions. Some of them with Ransom.

His jaw dropping in his shock, “No...no... that’s not... it just can’t be... she would never... with you?” he looked up at him.

Ransom almost scoffed, why would it be so incredulous? “She came onto me. She practically forced me to do it. And I mean, can you really blame me? I thought you should know, since you’re going to marry her.”

Bryce completely went off after that, bawling his eyes out before eventually, leaving with the Russian woman.

***

You woke up the next morning in Ransoms arms. He had never been so kind to you. Your head snuggled in the crook of his neck, limbs tangled together. You sighed as you smelled his calming scent.

Your boyfriend had been missing for a whole day, and although you were sleeping with his friend, you did deeply care for him. When it felt like you couldn’t breath Ransom was there for you. He came to the apartment you shared with Bryce and helped calm your anxieties.

“ _He’ll be back_ ,” he had said.

You scrambled out of his hold, to check your phone for any updates, to see over a hundred unread messages. You furrowed your brows, looking at your friends chat.

‘ _Omg, girl, what did you do_?’

‘ _Can’t turn a hoe into a housewife_.’

You had no idea what was going on so you called your bestie. It was as if everything around you slipped into an abyss. You didn’t how you were supposed to react as you listen to her.

“ _There's video of you blowing some guy... Bryce was with some model doing coke and God knows what, looks like he’s back to his... we fir sure thought he was dead too... he told Jason that you cheated on him with Ransom. Ransom, really? I get that he’s hot, but... you know what? I'd do him too_.”

You blinked, “A video?” you voice hoarse. Although you were relieved that Bryce was alright, you had much bigger things to worry about.

“ _Yeah, um... I saw it. It’s... well, it’ll blow over. Everyone will forget about it in like a month or so. Hey so, is that Ransoms cock_?” she asked.

You shook your head, “Who sent the video?”

“ _Bryce emailed it to like a bunch of people_.”

You felt tears wetting your cheeks as you hung up. Looking over your shoulder to see that Ransom was up, leaning back on the headboard, running a hand through his hair.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he sneered, “you had it coming.”

“What is wrong with you?” Covering your face with your palms, you sobbed into them.

“Because you’re mine. Whether you like it or not,” he gritted.

“You’ve ruined me,” you let out a shuddering breath. “He’s going to kick me out now and break up with me.” Not that you’d want to stay even if he didn’t. Your standards weren’t that low.

“You can just move in with me, pumpkin,” he kissed your wet cheek. “My house is much nicer anyway. And these fucking sheets,” he squirmed on the bed. “what is this five hundred thread count? Why are you even with this asshole?”

“Ransom, I... I can’t move in with you. After everything, I just need a minute,” you rubbed your temples, trying to sooth your pounding head.

“Don’t take too long,” he got off the bed, pulling his sweater over his head. “It’s not like you have a choice.” He chuckled.

And although he was kind enough to help you pack up your belongings, you wondered just how life with him would be. If you could trade safety and stability for the fiery passion you had with him and truly be happy.


End file.
